Callan
But we still have a way to go if we’re going to make it to the championship game this year.
I swing the birthday girl into my arms, tickling her ribs with one hand. “Happy birthday, Marlee!” The other kids running around don’t seem to mind that the person the party is for is no longer playing their game.
Steve and Winnie follow Marlee over to offer me a quick hello, and I almost ask Steve if the rumors that I might be traded are true, but I refrain.
So much can happen in a season, it’d be unhelpful to worry about it now.
And Charlotte would tell me if it was anything imminent.
At least, I think she would. Though she probably shouldn’t.
I chat with Charlotte’s parents for a few minutes before they turn their attention to an older couple at the party who Marlee tells me are her grandma and grandpa.
Parents of the other kids stand around in small groups, watching as their offspring run around as if they’ve eaten an entire bag of sugar.
I’m surprised none of them have made their way over to say hello or ask for an autograph.
“What’d you get me?” Marlee reaches out and grabs the Stallions cap off my head before placing it on her own.
“Marlee!” her mom chides from a few feet away, where she’s corralling a gift bag that’s blowing away. “People don’t have to get you a present. You shouldn’t ask that.”
The sweet girl in my arms’ lower lip starts to quiver. “But it’s my birthday.”
I wink at Kim. “I know! Which is why I got you a present. I sent it with your aunt Charlotte. Do you know where she is?”
Kim sighs, her hands going to her lower back as she looks at a white trailer in the distance. “She’s over there, helping Chris with the petting zoo he insisted was a good idea. Spoiler alert, it’s a disaster.”
Marlee places a hand on either side of my jaw and yanks my face back to look at her. “What’d you get me?”
“It’s a surprise!” I declare. She’s going to love it.
I got her a new pink princess dress complete with a wand, a tiara, and heeled slippers.
My PA assured me it was from a special store online that prides itself on having the comfiest princess dresses.
I wasn’t aware they weren’t comfortable, but Wally has three daughters, so I decided to take his word for it.
When Charlotte told me she’d put both of our names on her card, I gasped in outrage before assuring her my gift was already on the way. Then I wrapped the gift before she had the chance to see it, just to make her wonder. She hasn’t stopped asking me about it.
Unlike the kiss.
Which we haven’t talked about. Because what is there to say? I kissed her because she was spiraling.
And it was the best kiss of my life. Like her lips were literally made to fit with mine. Like, if I pulled her close, I’d find out what every love song ever written was about.
But also, a simple kiss between two people who are fake dating. And are becoming real friends. It’s all very normal.
“Shall we go see what your dad and aunt are up to?” I ask Marlee.
“Yes! Let’s pet the sugar glider again.”
“You got to pet a sugar glider?!” I try to think back to elementary school and how I happened to miss the lesson on what the fuck a sugar glider is, but I come up empty. Maybe a type of bird?
“Come on, Clarence!” Charlotte demands as we near the trailer with the words “World’s Best Petting Zoo” on the side.
“That doesn’t sound good,” I whisper into Marlee’s ear.
She giggles. “Aunt Charlotte is mad.”
We reach the back of the trailer and find Charlotte, in a pink sundress and silver heels, pulling a short white horse’s bridle, trying to get him to walk out of the trailer.
I bite my lips. “Hey there, Princess. Whatcha working on?”
“He. Won’t. Get. Out!” she huffs, continuing to tug.
Chris comes to stand next to us. “And Charlotte has made it her personal mission to make sure there are pony rides at this party.”
Of course she has. Because, as certain as I was a few months ago that Charlotte had earned her nickname, I’ve realized she might live in a tower and wear fancy dresses, but there is nothing princess-y about this woman.
She’s far more likely to pull out a sword and go toe-to-toe with a dragon than she is to wait for someone to save her.
I look around. “Where’s the guy in charge of this thing?”
Chris scans the area as well. “He left a few minutes ago to take a phone call. But he said the horse does this sometimes. And that it’s best not to fight it.”
Moving next to Charlotte, I hand her Marlee.
“Here, Princess. Let me try.” I press a quick kiss to her cheek as I say hello.
Only because I know how important it is to her that her brother believes in our ruse.
Not because I feel like I’d give myself a hernia trying to keep from touching her if I didn’t.
She clears her throat as her gaze scans my face. “Um, thanks.”
I pull a few Nerds Clusters out of my pocket and offer them to the horse on a flat hand. The horse sniffs my offering before tentatively taking one, his lips soft against my palm.
“You can’t feed him candy!” Charlotte looks around as if she’s worried the horse police are watching.
“Don’t people feed horses sugar cubes all the time?” I whisper back, petting the pony’s soft, white nose. “While obviously infused with magic, I think these are basically just sugar and like, food dye.”
She covers Marlee’s ears. “Which could kill him for all we know.”
“I’m not going to feed him a whole bag! Look. He likes me now.” I pet his nose again before making a clicking noise I’ve heard the handlers make when they’re working with the team’s live mascot, Sunny the Stallion. “Come on, horsey.”
Amazingly, the pony takes a few steps, following me into the corralled area next to the trailer. Charlotte and Marlee cheer us on.
“How in the world do you know how to do that?” Chris asks as Charlotte and Marlee take up a spot on the outside of the fenced-in area.
I shrug. “I’ve seen the handlers with Sunny a few times.” I pat the horse’s neck. “And I think he was ready to be done dealing with Charlotte.”
Chris glances at his sister. “It’s not too often she doesn’t get what she wants. Been like that since she was a kid. Tough to see her dethroned by a four-legged animal.”
“Was she, though?” I ask as we leave the horse to eat grass. No way am I taking on the responsibility of the actual horse rides. “The horse isn’t in the trailer anymore.”
“Excellent point.” Chris shuts the gate behind us and moves around to grab Marlee before asking, “Is there a four-year-old here who wants to eat cupcakes?”
Charlotte grabs my cap off Marlee’s head and places it on her own, pulling her long curls through the hole in the back.
I tilt Charlotte’s chin up, pursing my lips as I examine her in my hat. It is doing things to my insides that are completely unexpected. There may be an entire gymnastics class in there flipping around. “That cap looks pretty good on you, Princess.”
She pulls the bill down, using her hands to bend the brim into a tight U.
I scowl. “Which is good, since I will never be wearing it again now that you’ve defaced it like that.”
Her hands stop. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think…”
I pull her fingers away from the brim. “It’s okay. I have about two hundred more exactly like that.” I flick the edge of the hat. “Plus, I was planning on forcing you to keep this one anyway. You can wear it to the next game. For luck.”
She narrows her eyes, trying to figure out my angle. “It’s one of the ones that has your number on it, isn’t it?”
I glance at the number 11 embroidered above where her ponytail sticks out the back.
“Yup. I guess everyone will have to know you’re mine.
” Claiming her feels good. Right. I know this thing is fake between us, but while we’re together, I want everyone to know it.
Except maybe Nan. And that’s only because she’s going to become too attached.
Or she’ll go all mama bear and make the next seven months a living hell for me and Charlotte.
“Yours, huh?” Charlotte asks, pulling my attention to the stunning woman wearing my hat.
I shrug. “You’re my friend.”
“Who you kiss.” There’s a glint of mischief in her eyes, but it’s counteracted by the way she’s popping the knuckles of her right hand.
I’m not sure what to say. Things with Charlotte are complicated in the fact that they’re not complicated.
She’s beautiful and funny and has become one of the highlights of my day.
She’s easy to be with, but at the same time, my body is on high alert when I’m with her.
I don’t know what it means that I want to kiss her every time I see her, but I also know I don’t want it to stop.
I’m not sure I can stop.
So I offer her the only truth I have. “Who I kiss. Because we’re fake dating.”
Charlotte looks like she wants to say something else when Kim calls us over to sing “Happy Birthday,” so we start making our way back to the picnic tables. As we walk, Charlotte slides her hand in mine. Because we’re fake dating. And we have to keep up impressions.
Though, I wonder whether it feels as good, as comfortingly invigorating, to her as it does to me.
I’m sure she would tell me if I ask: Charlotte’s not particularly good at keeping her thoughts to herself. I’m also sure I’m not ready to face the truth if everything is for show.
We sing along with the kids as Marlee stares intently at the chocolate cupcake with rainbow sprinkles in front of her. Four pink candles protrude from the top, the wax melting down their sides as our off-tune melody fills the air.
Marlee blows out all her candles in one go before announcing loudly that she wished for a unicorn to ride.
“Thank goodness she told us, so I don’t have to make that one come true,” Chris whispers to his twin.
She bumps her shoulder against his. “Like you’re not already thinking of ways you could get a white horse to dress up like a unicorn.”
I watch the siblings interact, still surprised by how close they are despite everything happening at the moment.
As someone who grew up without siblings, I can’t imagine being that close to anyone.
Though, I do understand staying close to someone you’re actively competing against. One of the hardest things for me over the years has been when my friends get traded to a new team.
In a matter of minutes, they go from being your ride-or-die to being the competition.
It’s hard, but you figure it out fairly quickly in my line of work.
Steve Langford makes his way over to the other side of Chris, and Charlotte laughs at something her dad says about needing to get out of here before the sugar crashes hit.
Their relationship is still very unclear to me.
He’s fucking with both of his kids because he changed his mind about their future, and they both act like it’s completely normal.
Not that I’m equipped to be the judge of what is or isn’t normal.
At the announcement that it’s time for presents, the kids race to grab the gift bags they brought, forming a circle around Marlee.
One at a time, a kid hands her a gift and, typically, before she has it open, the gift-giver has already announced what’s inside.
The adults around the circle fall back into conversation, keeping an eye on the explosion of pink, sparkles, and unicorns emerging from the bags.
My stomach twists as I watch Marlee open gift after gift, questioning if what I got was appropriate.
Too little? Too much? What’s the appropriate uncle gift? Not that I’m her uncle.
Finally, it’s my turn. I hold out my sparkly pink bag and have to bite my tongue from telling her what it is.
Marlee’s face lights up when she pulls out the tiara.
“This is the crown Princess Quinn wears!” She shoves it onto her head before pulling the rest of the gift out.
By the time she’s done, she’s wearing both the crown and the heeled slippers and is waving the wand.
She made a bid to put on the dress, but Kim efficiently shut her down.
Charlotte nudges me, looking into my face with an expression of… appreciation? “Not bad. Now I can see why you didn’t want your name associated with my unicorn backpack.”
I wrap a consoling arm around her shoulder. “Not everyone can be as good at giving gifts as I am, Princess. It’s a game you’re going to lose every time.”
She laughs as she shoves away from me. “God, can you be any more conceited?”
“It would be difficult… but for you, I’ll try.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” she teases.
We spend the next half hour or so chasing around tiny humans as they play, pet animals, and eat more cupcakes.
A few of the dads come over to introduce themselves, a couple asking for autographs.
Fortunately, I’ve always got a permanent marker in my pocket when I’m out in public for these occasions.
Finally, a dad pulls his kid from the fray, declaring it’s time to go, and it’s like a dam breaking: the parents all instructing their kids to say thank you before loading them into waiting vehicles. Charlotte and I stay to help Kim and Chris pick up, despite their insistence that they’ve got it.
As we walk toward our cars, once the park is back in its original condition, Charlotte offers me a headphone. “I have a new playlist I think you’ll like.”
I place the earbud in and smile as “Absolutely (Story of a Girl)” plays. It’s not one on any of my playlists, but I do like its 2000’s vibe. “So far so good, Princess.”